


There and Back Again

by TorchDwaarf



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Teen Wolf (TV), The Amazing Spider-Man (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Rule 63, Time Travel, redo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-23 11:24:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TorchDwaarf/pseuds/TorchDwaarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski, typical human.</p><p>But maybe he's not what he thought he was all along. Join him as he breaks the laws of time to hopefully create a better future, all with the help of his previously unknown Jotun heritage, whilst using his contacts to better himself and break even more rules.</p><p>But hey, if you've got it, flaunt it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> New to this so if you think its interesting and worth continuing then I will. Had the story-line planned out in my head up until season 3 for ages so thought i'd finally bite the bullet and go for it.
> 
> Unbeta-ed so don't hate me for my mistakes will try catch them as I go along.

He genuinely never thought it'd come to this. All the situations he'd managed to get himself into, all whilst coming out with barely more than a few scrapes. The many walls Derek had thrown him into, the threats by Peter, Jackson the Kanima paralysing yet not killing him, despite how much his human form despised him, and being beaten up by the twisted Grandpa Argent. But lying there, having been gutted by the Alpha of all alpha's claws, and thrown like a ragdoll, it finally clicked that he was most likely living on borrowed time. It didn't matter that he was young, or a virgin, or had finally realised that the girl he'd been chasing all his life wasn't actually his true love. Not whilst he was lying there on the floor, blood pooling around him as he hoped beyond all hope that his friends, his brothers, his pack, would make it even if he didn't.

He watched, bleeding freely over the roots of the Nemeton as his pack attacked the Alphas. Jennifer had disappeared after manipulating the two packs into battle with each other. He'd foolishly tried to stop her as Deucalion had attempted to gouge her and as she'd vanished his claws had swiped straight through into him. Deucalion had tilted his head to one side while flexing his claws and muttered a 'pity' before flinging him towards the tree. He'd dropped the bat which he had infused with mountain ash, mistletoe and wolfsbane as he'd collapsed against the base of the Nematon, the sheer pain causing him to black out for a few moments.

It was a shame, he thought as the various fights drew in and out of focus, he'd been working on his 'spark' abilities with Deaton recently and he'd been told he had a distinct latent ability considering the ease in which the various wards and spells he'd tried had come to him. The magic itself gave him the comfort he associated with the sweet summer days when he would visit the park with his mother, or they would try the tire swing at the far end of their garden tied to the tree on the very edge of the preserve. It seemed to crackle with the same energy he'd once felt when being tickled by his mother, or when she read him a story of adventure just before he fell asleep. It made his skin crawl in the same way his ADHD did when he'd forgotten to take a tablet, or when he'd taken too many at once in order to keep up with schoolwork, or research, or werewolves. It was this comfortable crackling energy that he felt slowly slipping through his fingers now, as the trees grow ever darker, as the sounds of battle surrounding him became that bit quieter, as he felt ever drawn to the peace in the back of his mind. And that's when he caught a scent he'd not smelt in 6 years. The smell of baking and vanilla and safety. The scent he remembered from his mother, back when she was happy and healthy and his. Before she became death's.

No, he thought striving to concentrate on his surroundings. Not yet, he panicked shaking his head, causing a sharp pain to stab at him from the gaping hole in his stomach, as if it was angry that it had escaped his notice for so long. He forced himself to focus on the battle, to ensure his peace of mind that his pack was still with him. Across from him he caught sight of Ethan's throat being ripped from his neck in a spray of blood similar to that of how water shoots from a lawn sprinkler. It was good to know that his plan to separate the twins had worked although he was mournful of the need for more death than needed.

It was after killing the other alpha that Derek's eyes caught his. He must've looked worse than he thought as Derek let through a smidge of emotion with the widening of his eyes. If Stiles didn't know any better he'd dare say it looked like worry.

As Derek made a move towards him he was tackled by Aiden. Stiles heart skipped a beat and he felt it as his would gave a particularly nasty throb, the ground spinning. A pained howl was heard as Stiles' eyes rolled desperately trying to find the source, hoping it hadn't been one of his wolves. He managed to focus his gaze again on Derek who was lying face down, leg twisted unnaturally as the deranged-with-grief Aiden hunched over him blood red eyes alight with the wolf. 

Out of seemingly nowhere Scott barrelled into Aiden's side, sending the pair out of Stiles' eye line, his gaze never threatening to leave Derek's prone form as a tingle swept up his spine numbing his wound with the recognizable crackling feeling. He felt rather than heard as the self-proclaimed Demon Wolf's cane tapped against the ground towards Derek's body. The red eyes befitting both the Alpha and the blind man seemed to focus on Stiles as a devilish smirk slowly grew upon his face. He reached Derek as Stiles drew his gaze back to him, eyes staring into the others, each gaze saying a thousand words that their lips never could. Stiles felt his heart beat increase bringing the pain of his gut back into his awareness as the ultimate Alpha raised his cane, spinning it so the speared end was facing downwards above Derek's head. Stiles let out a yell as realization came forth yet he never saw the fate of his wolf.

As he had opened his mouth to a bellow worthy of Lydia, he had felt the crackling of his magic reach its threshold. All had gone white has the power of the Nemeton that had been slowly feeding upon his virginal blood swept back into him with a rushing roar echoing around his ears. The wind had picked up as he felt battered seeing nothing but the purest of white. He closed his eyes as the tingling akin to pins and needles flooded his body, his mind battered, he slept.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit slow going but bare with me it's gunna get fun reaaal soon.

Throb.

Throb.

Throb.

Stiles groaned as his headache throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He huffled over trying the burrow further into his covers to try catch a few more winks in hope that when he reawoke the throbbing monster of a headache would be gone. Faced down into his pillow he clutched his hands over his ears to try stop the thudding he could hear as he brushed his fingers against his fuzzy hair.

Wait.

Fuzzy hair?

He did not spend all summer growing out his shorter style for someone to shave his hair back into it, no way. If Scott thought this was some hilarious idea for a joke he was massively mistaken.

Wait.

Scott.

Stiles flailed out from under his covers off of his bed to look around his room, heart thudding hysterically as he searched for any idea as to how he'd gotten there considering last he remembered was bleeding out over some mystical tree in the middle of a werewolf ridden forest. He spun around taking in the sight of his own room, the differences between how he expected it to be and how it actually scoured with his analytical gaze. A poster he had not had up in quite some time, the missing laptop instead replaced with an older computer, the photo of him, the Sherriff and his mother not on his bedside table where he knew it to without a doubt always stay. The other little things like his old bag laying on the floor by his desk instead of his new backpack packed with herbs and books and wolfsbane and mountain ash and other useful things required when ones best friend was a werewolf. He flailed again as his father shouted up from the kitchen about hurrying to get breakfast before school, he had not been this clumsy ever it was as if his body was not his own completely unused to this new closeness with the floor and greater distance from the ceiling. His heart beating with dread, he left his bedroom to cross the landing to the bathroom, pulling the light cord and gasping as he was met with his reflection. His buzz cut was back as was his 13 year old body. He Promptly fainted (collapsed! men... well boys, don't faint.).


	3. Chapter 3

"Right, I need a plan, need a plan."

Stiles paced back and forth at the foot of his bed. He guessed he'd only been out for a few minutes considering his dad hadn't come and checked up on him.

"Plan, plan, plan."

He sat at his desk flicking a pen between his fingers against the wood. It was ridiculous! He always had a plan that was his thing! Visibly shaking himself, he sat up straight, taking a deep breath.

"Right the facts..." He resumed his pacing. "I was 18, now I'm approximately 13..." His eyes flitted to the calendar on his desk. "I'm recently 13 and summer break's should be starting any day now... I vote I worry about this then." He nodded before grabbing his school back and racing down the stairs. 

"Hey Dad." He said swiping the piece of toast from his plate and shoving it into his mouth before sticking his head in the fridge. He grabbed the carton of milk and a glass from the top cupboard, feeling a sense of vertigo at having to stretch to reach a glass. His dad looked at him in shock as he poured himself a glass.

"Who are you and what've you done with my son?"

Stiles made a noncommital sound, eyebrows raising his cheeks rounded with milk as he swallowed. "Who me?" His father looked pointedly at the glass in his hand.

"Oh, what can I say I woke up this morning and it was like I was a changed man." He stated drily with a cheeky grin as he headed towards the front door where he had just heard a beep. It must've been Mama McCall's turn to take to school today. He heard his father shout as he opened the door.

"Still can't put the milk away though I see!"

Stiles snorted and left the house.


	4. Chapter 4

It was the first day of the summer holidays. Stiles may or may not have gotten distracted with how easy and relaxing and non life-threatening school had been the last few days. Hey! He deserved a break! So instead he'd decided to put off the planning until summer break started. Which was now...

"Now for the Plan..." He started sitting down at his desk tapping the pen against it. 'The Plan' was written and capitalised and underlined (twice!) at the top of the page.

He'd already written a few points in the three hours he'd spent of his first Saturday-with-no-homework-not-that-I-have-to-try-with-it-it's-super-easy-and-no-that's-not-because-I'm-actually-seventeen-it-was-always-easy-thank-you. It kind of went like this...

1) Become a weapon of mass destruction

2) Learn magic? Talk to Deaton... Tell Deaton? Possible help?

3) Stop that bitch the Darach the whore save Laura? Kill Peter in his coma? Kill Kate? Arrest Kate the other whore

4) Basically become super awesome and better than even werewolves before the time Scott gets got gets got bit. stupid tenses and time travel

5) Work out what and how much I'm willing to change.

And that was the real issue. Just how much was Stiles willing and capable of changing without completely messing it all up for the worse. He'd been sent for a reason. Like his mother used to say, everything happens for a reason. Sometimes you just had to play the waiting game to see just what that reason was. So Stiles would wait. But that didn't mean he had to wait quietly. This time they'd be prepared. None of his pack were going to suffer, even if that meant they didn't become pack he'd save their little werewolf (or not werewolf) asses even if it killed him. Maybe that was his reason for returning. To save all the innocent lives they'd managed to lose. To prevent Derek anymore suffering. Because Lord knew the poor little Sourwolf had a bucket-load of sadness he kept hidden behind his scowl of darkness. 

So it was decided he'd try change some stuff for the better. Thankfully he had another 3 years before he had to panic about the details. And in the meantime, he could work on becoming a stronger, faster, more valuable pack member.

But first Stiles had to work out how he was going to accomplish that. The magic issue would hopefully be a doozy, he could just go to some magic shop and browse until he finds something believable... or he could go to Deaton depending on whether he thought he could be trusted or not. That can be added to his list of 'Things for future Stiles to worry about'. The second issue would be that of his fighting fitness. Sure he could fire a pistol, as the Sherriff's son it was kind of a necessity. But he needed more than that. As a child he'd never had the concentration to last in any fighting classes he'd been sent to and didn't bother trying again once he'd gotten medication a few years back. Of course he could sign himself up for more classes for different types of martial arts to get a good range but how could he afford that? He didn't have a job and his dad's wage covered food and rent but not enough for 4 or 5 different classes a week. 

Stiles sighed as he steeled himself. It was time to call in a favour. He swung off his chair, out of his bedroom, down the hallway and into his dad's room. The address book was on his dad's bedside table where it had been since as long as he could remember. He picked it up gently, unsure if he was making the right decision before his grip tightened and he turned on his heel back to his room. Upon flinging himself back into his chair he breathed out in a rush.

"Right just a little phone call..." He muttered to himself as he flicked through the book landing on 'S'."Or maybe a text would be easier." He sighed, frowning slightly at his own cowardice.

He took his phone out of his pocket and started to type.

"Hey Uncle Tony, long time no speak! Thanks again for the great new phone for my birthday! See thing is, I've been bullied at school lately and I'm sick of being too weak to fight back so I wanted to learn some different martial arts. But I don't want to ask dad cos then he'd know I was being bullied and that would just be embarrassing! He can't know okay? So yeah was wondering if maybe you'd know of any places I could ask or something? And maybe send me my Christmas money early so I could afford? Not that I'm being super ungrateful or meaning to be rude and using you or anything! I just really don't want my dad to know or be disappointed in me for not being able to defend myself you know? Especially considering he's the Sherriff! I mean come on! What kind of Sherriff's son can't defend himself from a couple of kids right? So anyways nice talking to you let me know what you think? Thanks again for the new phone it's great! Thanks! Love Stiles x"

Well, he thought, it certainly gets the message across. He felt bad for the obvious manipulation of making out he was being bullied (which he technically was sometimes but what teenager isn't?!) and he was too embarrassed to tell his dad (which he kind of is but mainly because it wasn't a big deal). He felt bad, but it was a necessary evil.

He sent a quick text off to Scott telling him to get his ass over to his for gaming fun before racing downstairs to see what games were actually out and about in the current year. Scott came over and they played and ate junk food and it was almost as if he was a 13 year old kid again just hanging out with his best bro. 

But in the back of his mind there was still that constant presence, waiting for the reply. He knew his uncle and godfather well enough that he probably wouldn't reply for ages, too busy with his head stuck in his lab or out partying at the best nightclubs. He wasn't even his real uncle. Stiles' grandfather had been the brother of Tony's father, but had changed his last name to avoid the press after Howard Stark's rise to fame. Hugh Anthony Stilinski (born Stark) had preferred to keep his family to himself and so had gotten Howard to remove all traces of himself from databases, instead replacing himself and his achievements with the name Stilinski. He'd wanted to keep something of his past life and so had retained the first two letters of his former surname. It was he whom Howard had named his son for. All this Stiles had known from a young age but after seeing his Uncle Tony in numerous tabloids never for anything good, he'd thought it best to avoid contact and they had eventually fully lost touch when he was 14, just before Tony Stark revealed himself as Iron Man. He'd heard of the battle of New York of course, it had occurred just before Scott was bitten but the following drama had caused it to fade from his mind quite quickly. But if his Uncle could be a hero surely he could channel some of that heroism into help his darling nephew... even if he wasn't that hero just yet.

It wasn't until Scott had left and his father had returned home from his shift that he received a reply. He had just eaten homemade quorn lasagne which his father had been happily surprised about (he hadn't realised the meat was quorn... Stiles had also forgotten that he had yet learnt to cook at 13... he mentally slapped himself) and was climbing under his covers when his phone buzzed on the bedside table. Flailing, he made a mad grasp for it almost falling off the bed in the process. He unlocked the phone and stared at the short reply feeling a mixture of relief, confusion and almost premonition-y dread.

"Sure thing kid don't you worry about it Uncle Tony'll sort everything out. Talk soon! x"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It. Just. Got. Interesting....


End file.
